


Human Voices

by Jen Hall (Greenlady)



Series: All Thy Heart [4]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-06
Updated: 2010-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Jen%20Hall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 4 of All Thy Heart.</p><p>Hutch takes over the Missing Women Task Force. Starsky engages in some PDAs. Hutch doesn't need instructions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Voices

********************

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea  
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown  
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. T.S. Eliot

*********************************

 

'I'm Lieutenant Hutchinson. Welcome to the Missing Women Task Force. We have twenty three missing women. Where are they? Are they alive or dead? If they're alive, where are they? If they're dead, were they murdered? These are the questions we must answer. This isn't the usual sort of task force. We have no evidence to go on. Only the fact that there are twenty three missing women. Those women, and their families, are counting on us to find the answers. Any questions? Good. If you have no questions now, you will. This task force is about questions. Questions are all we have. I'm setting up a tip line. Every tip, no matter how ridiculous it may seem at first, will be investigated. I don't want to find out, months down the line, that someone on my task force decided a tip was beneath their notice, and it turned out to be the tip that could have cracked the case -- only now, we have thirty three missing women. Is that understood?'

'Yes, sir,' the entire task force said in unison.

Hutch smiled, grimly. He'd never imagined himself as a Lieutenant. Trapped in an office, behind a desk, directing other cops -- no. But this was different. He had no intention of staying behind his desk. This was his task force. He'd lead it the way he saw fit. Lead from the front.

'Twenty three missing women. All of them were hookers. But not all of them were transients, and many of them have friends, and relatives who care about them. Those friends and relatives want to know what happened. They've been looking for these women for months -- two years now, in one or two cases. With no result.'

'Lieutenant Hutchinson?'

'Yes, Officer Barclay?'

Officer Barclay was a rookie, but she had already shown her mettle. She was a fiery red-head, and tough.

'Do we have any evidence at all that these women have been murdered?'

'That's a good question, Officer. We have no evidence, that we're aware of. Only the fact that so many women have vanished without a trace. That's suspicious. More than suspicious, it's frightening. Let's look at these women, for a moment. I've put their pictures up on the board, in order of when they were last seen. Amanda Patterson. Nineteen years old. Last seen, April 3rd, 1978. Jo Roberts. Twenty two years old. Last seen, December 5th, 1978....'

************************

Hutch made his escape from Metro, without being seen by Captain Dobey. He imagined the look the Captain would have given his black leather jacket, and his jeans. Hardly the sort of thing a Lieutenant was supposed to wear. They had hired him, Hutch, for the job, he thought. And so they were getting him, Hutch, for the job. If they didn't like him, they could get someone else. Someone who wore suits, and ties, and kissed asses all around. Someone who was out for their own glory, and getting promoted to Captain next. Not that Captain Dobey was like that, of course. There were good cops at all levels of the force. But the potential was there.

He drove the Torino to the nearest phone booth. Starsky insisted that Hutch use the damned car. He argued that Hutch's own car was a piece of junk, and Hutch agreed. That seemed to make Starsky even madder, for some reason. He'd been really grumpy at breakfast this morning. Maybe living together wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe Starsky was getting tired of him.

He slipped into the phone booth, and dialled home. Starsky answered, after only two rings.

'Speak to me, Hutch.'

'Starsk? How'd you know it was me?'

'I dunno. I'm psychic. That and the fact that almost no one else has this number yet. Unless you handed it out to all your lady friends?'

'I don't have any lady friends. Not any more. I'm on my lunch break. I was wondering....'

'Come on home. I've got lunch waiting for you. I've got me waiting for you.'

******************************

'So, how's it going so far?' asked Starsky. He sounded interested, but not in any desperate way. He didn't seem to miss being a cop. That puzzled Hutch, but it calmed him as well. He wasn't sure he could have handled it, if Starsky had been fretting, longing to return to their old life.

'It's early to say. The group looks intelligent. I've got them organized into sections. One section working the streets. Another section dealing with phone tips. A third section doing research.'

'Research?' asked Starsky.

'Reading newspapers. All the local papers. Every word. Personal ads. Letters to the editor. Any unusual news events. Things like that. What have you been doing, besides making lunch? Not that I don't appreciate the lunch. All the lunch.'

Starsky grinned. He was sprawled back among the pillows, lazily munching on a sandwich. He picked a bit off, and put it in Hutch's mouth.

'You're not eating enough,' he said. 'I've been looking for a job. Checking the want ads. Making some phone calls. Reading a book on changing careers. Not sure I want a new career. Maybe I just want a job. Something that interests me, but doesn't take a lot of time, you know? So I have time to spare for you.'

'Starsk!'

'What, Hutch?'

'Never mind. Have to get back to work.'

'You gonna be home late?'

'I don't know. The task force is in its early stages yet. Hard to say what we'll dig up today, but probably not much that's useful. Yet.'

'I called Huggy,' said Starsky.

'Oh, yeah?'

'Gave him the news about your promotion. Why don't you go see him? He says he misses us.'

Hutch laughed. 'I'm sure he does,' he said.

**********************************

'Well, if it isn't the great Detective Hutchinson. Lieutenant Hutchinson, I mean. Long time no see. I guess you're too high and mighty for us ordinary mortals, now.'

'That's not true, Huggy,' said Hutch.

'No? Then why haven't you been here in weeks, maybe longer?'

'Been busy, Hugs.'

'Taking care of your partner. I know. He called, told me all about it.'

'Oh, yeah?'

'Oh, yeah.'

Surely Huggy didn't mean that Starsky told him all about it, Hutch thought. Not all about it. Surely he left some things out. I hope he left some things out. Like how we spent our lunch hour.

'What's the matter?' Huggy was asking.

'Nothing,' said Hutch, brilliantly. 'Nothing's the matter. This new task force, I'm running the whole show. It's a big job.'

'Well, all work and no play. Just remember that. Speaking of which, there he is. Your partner. In the flesh. That's more like it.'

Hutch turned to the door. There he was indeed. Starsky in the flesh. Even tighter jeans than the spaghetti-sauce-stained ones from yesterday. Red shirt, open to the navel. Black leather jacket.

Hutch knew he was blushing. It was ridiculous, he thought. As if he were a teenage boy, who'd just lost his virginity in the back seat of his father's car. And the police were knocking at the window, telling him to move on, or they'd call his parents.

'Interesting,' was Huggy's comment.

'I beg your pardon?' asked Hutch.

'Nothing,' said Huggy. 'Nothing's the matter. I have to check on the kitchen. I run this whole show, you know. It's a big job.'

Starsky slid onto the bar stool next to Hutch's.

'What's the matter?' he asked.

Hutch started to say nothing was the matter, then changed his mind.

'It's the first time we've been together, in public, in front of people who know us,' he pointed out. 'It's just... different.'

'How different? Different in a bad way?'

'My God, no. Different like, you've always been the most important person in my life. And now you're even more important. And people who know us are bound to see it, and wonder.'

'Wonder what? Wonder what took us so long? That's what I've been wondering. I was reading some of those poems you told me about. I read about T.S.Eliot. Not sure I like his poems. Some of it's okay.'

'He's one of the greatest poets of this century,' said Hutch, with mock affront.

'I still don't think I like his poems. Never mind. But I read something interesting about him. He said we start out seeing life as magical, and full of meaning, but we get old.'

'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. I know. Boring, meaningless, petty existence. We're meant to live in a dream world, it's our natural element, but we drown in reality.'

'Am I your natural element, Hutch? Or are you drowning in reality?'

Hutch put his hand on Starsky's shoulder, ran it down his arm, slowly. Starsky didn't flinch, though the bar was full of people. But then, they'd always touched each other in public, though without sexual intent. That was the difference, he thought.

'Let's go home,' said Hutch. 'I don't remember finishing my lunch.'

****************************

Starsky had been busy, it seemed. And not only looking for a job.

'See!' he said eagerly, like a kid in a candy store. 'There's lots of stuff we haven't tried yet.'

'I know,' said Hutch.

'You know?' Starsky asked, angrily. 'You know, and you've been keeping this knowledge from me? I'm your partner, Hutch. You're supposed to tell me these things.'

'Now, Starsky.'

'Put that finger down. Don't you start lecturing me. Forget all that. Just look. If you put me in this position, it's easier.'

'According to the book,' said Hutch.

'Ah! You have experience? You've tried it out, and the book's not right?'

'Something like that.'

'Well, what about this, then?'

Hutch gave a quick embarrassed glance at the drawing of two naked men, with big cocks, attempting to engage in some extremely acrobatic sex. Hutch thought his back would never be the same again, and he said so.

'You're no fun,' said Starsky.

'Starsky, will you put that book away?'

'Why?'

'Because. Because it's, it's...'

'It's embarrassing you?'

'No. Starsky, they're drawings. Lines on paper. I want you. You're flesh and blood.'

'I want you, too. I want you to do this. Here. This page. Think you can manage it?'

'Okay. But we're going to need something to make it easier. For me to fit, I mean.'

'I bought some of that today, when I got the books,' said Starsky. He handed Hutch a tube of lubricant. Hutch stared at it for a moment.

'You put it on your cock, Hutch. And then you follow the directions in the book.'

Hutch grabbed the book out of Starsky's hand, and threw it across the room.

'I don't need any fucking directions in any fucking book,' he told his lover.

'Good,' said Starsky. 'That's what I wanted to hear.'

******************************

Hutch was watching his cock slide in and out of Starsky's body. It was a dream, he thought. Always a dream. But he didn't want to wake, and drown. He wanted to live in the sea, with the mermaids, forever. He wanted to hear the mermaids singing, when the wind blows the water, white and black. Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.

'This is fucking better,' said Starsky. 'I knew you had it in you.'

*** The End ***


End file.
